


Of Late Night Movies and Biscotti

by Butideasdontdie



Category: Hamilton - Miranda
Genre: Alex is smol, Biscotti, Cuddling, Domestic Boyfriends, Fluff, Jamilton - Freeform, M/M, Movie Night, Sweet Talking, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, cute prompts, everything is innocent and no one is mean, otp drabbles, probably ooc but i don't care, scalp massage, thomas is tol
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-15
Updated: 2016-07-15
Packaged: 2018-07-24 03:10:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7491090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Butideasdontdie/pseuds/Butideasdontdie
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Alexander and Thomas have a movie night; short fluffy and sweet.<br/>Probably out of character, but this was what I was feeling.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Late Night Movies and Biscotti

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hamiltrashed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hamiltrashed/gifts).



> Yes, I know this fic is probably very ooc.  
> No, I don't care.
> 
> I just wanted some Jamilton fluff so I did it myself. Leave me at peace.

"Thomas- hey, what the hell?" 

 

Just another late Friday night at the Hamilton-Jefferson residence. An open laptop sitting sprawled out and only half forgotten on the coffee table, a full pot of coffee sitting out between the two forms sitting on the floor (backs against the _perfectly_ good couch), some random movie blaring from the blue-ray player, and, of course, a full-fledged pouting match. 

 

"Yeah darling?" Thomas drawled back, a smirk gracing his lips as he leaned over his boyfriends body in order to stake claim to another mug of the liquid stamina. Alex frowned, batting his hand away as he attempted to lean further into the edge of the couch. This only succeeded in, no-doubt, leaving physical red creases against the small of Alexander's back. The man winced at the pressure, pouting as he realized that Thomas wasn't about to draw back.

 

"You're crushing me- are you getting something or what?"

 

"Well you didn't _have_ to put the pot all the way across the table from me. If there's a problem, why don't you just fix it?"

 

The hour is late- perhaps somewhere between midnight and 2 a.m.- making the consumption of coffee not exactly the brightest of ideas. The night was by Thomas deemed a necessary "date night" of sorts, only that it was more of a lets-sit-in-the-living-room-and-cuddle-for-hours-night, a you've-worked-your-ass-off-and-I'm-tired-of-seeing-those-bags-under-your-eyes night. 

 

Without a real comeback, Alexander merely stuck out his tongue and scrunched his eyebrows in a way that Thomas found endearing. Alex blushes a light shade of pink in response to the proclamation, stuttering out that he was going to step into the kitchen for a second. Snacks. Thomas snickers.

 

With Alex gone, Thomas is left once again to his thoughts, the mindless chatter of the television lost to his ears as he caught a final glance of Alexander's back-side heading into the kitchen. He is enamored, to say the least.

 

None of their friends had actually believed the two when they finally decided to tell the news of their coming together. The men had been the best of enemies in college- debating over the most ridiculous of subjects and arguing over what would be forgotten by both in a day or less. Jefferson and Hamilton, never seeing eyes to eye. Figuratively and physically. Despite their differences, however, the two eventually found themselves being drawn nearer and nearer to one another. They were able to see beyond their differences and come together over what they had in common. Both men found that they were capable of working together. They had realized somewhere along the way that working alongside one another was a much better idea than working to tear the other down. They somehow managed to spiral into a love affair somewhere along the way. The rest is history. 

 

Alexander Hamilton, he had realized somewhere along the lines of friend and foe, is a very attractive man. Small of stature with narrow shoulders that usually had a jacket or hoodie of sizes too large hanging off of them. A pretty face with a constant five o'clock shadow- not in favor of the style but in favor of getting other more important work done- that he somehow made to look sweet and docile with his mouth closed. A relatively large forehead that Jefferson had no problem constantly teasing the man about (despite his own weakness when it comes to giving the man, of, perhaps 500 forehead kisses a day). His eyes are a shade of brown that seem to make Thomas weak in the knees- of perhaps that is just the way that Alexander looks at him with those eyes. Relatively thin, pink lips that seem more often than not to be either thoroughly bitten or simply puckered. To top it all off, the man was a good 6 of so inches shorter than Thomas; not only does this give him a boost in ego, it makes Alexander's already effeminate physique even more tender to the heart. Not to mention that his boyfriend could easily pick him up and carry him around if he ever so chose to. 

 

"I'm back! And I brought biscotti! Nothing goes better with coffee," Alexander announces pleasantly, eyes alight with the joy that Thomas oh-so adored seeing on his face. 

 

Alexander is placing the plate full of hard-cookies down on the surface of the table, long locks of hair falling in his face as he bends, making Thomas smile lightly as he revels in his own happiness. 

 

"I got the choco- hey! What are you?-" the man exclaims indignantly as he feels a pair of large hands gripping lightly at his hips and pulling him down. Soon he is stuffed in between Thomas's opened thighs, back to his chest and a playful scowl on his face as he feels his boyfriend nuzzling at his neck with his nose. A huff of air leaves his lips as he irritably wields one of Thomas's hands, lacing his small and stubby fingers between Thomas's long and thin ones. 

 

"You're my pretty boy, you know that?" Thomas preens, the fingers of his free hand tracing slow circles against the fabric of Alexander's sweatpants. Alex nods silently after a few seconds, head bowed in embarrassment at the claim. Undoubtedly with newly pinked cheeks and a shy smile upon his lips.   

 

"You're my tiny babydoll. So small, sweetheart."

 

"Shuddup," Alexander groans in a tone verging between pleased and annoyed, his head thrown back against Thomas's shoulder in hopes of stilling the man. In all honestly, though, Alex adores the attention. Craves every tender glance and sweet prolonged touch. Loves every second in private with Thomas, where only he is able to see this soft and sentimental side of him. Something un-political and calculated. Something romantic and adoring.

 

Likewise, Thomas makes it no secret that he adores pampering his little Alexander in their alone time. Loves nearly nothing more. It is worth the boost of Alexander's pride if only Thomas be able to catch the soft linger of a blush upon his boyfriends face, the trace of a sugary smile against his sweet, sweet lips. It is more than worth every teasing jab sent his way if only he is able to catch his Alex off guard in a tender moment of love and bliss.

 

Thomas casts his own almost shy glance down at his blinking boyfriend, hand straying towards the tray on the table as the other slowly moves up and massages against Alexander's scalp. 

 

"Hey, I love you," Thomas whispers down at him, tracing fingers through his hair as his eyes cast shadows on every bit of his boyfriend that he can see. He feels Alexander lighten in his arms, shifting lightly towards him and leaning up against his chest, eyes flickering happily up to catch his own in a content gaze. 

 

"Hey, I love _you."_

**Author's Note:**

> Sweet, domestic, and to the point.


End file.
